The sky above Venus burned in hues of copper and orange, a blazing reminder of the chaos that had consumed its silent lands. Amid broken towers, smoking craters, and the splattered remnants of the once-honored Victinion sanctuaries, Noir stumbled back, gasping for breath.
His legs trembled.
His sword—wrenched from the hand of a dead clone—dropped to the ground with a hollow clang, swallowed by the ash below.
Cloud panted nearby, his blue scales scorched in places, one wing hanging low and limp. He, too, was reaching his limit.
The battlefield reeked of plasma and burnt metal. Of defeat.
Kyi, in her awakened frenzy, hovered midair—her markings glowing crimson, the wind bending to her. Around her, the surviving clones—each bearing the exact terrifying potential—circled like vultures waiting to devour the last light of resistance.
And in Noir's chest… the flame that had burned so hot, so furious—
Snuffed out.
"Damn it," Noir muttered, his knees giving in. He knelt, slamming a fist into the cracked stone. "We can't win. We just… can't."
He felt it in his bones. Every swing he made was too slow. Every tactic, countered. Every ounce of fire inside him—choked by the sheer might of the enemy. They had tried every weapon, every maneuver, every ounce of resolve.
Kyi adapted. Again and again.
And now, her clones surged forward, ten… fifteen… maybe more.
Cloud fell beside him, his breathing ragged. "Noir… I'm sorry."
But Noir didn't answer.
His eyes locked onto the approaching clones. Each one moved with ruthless, mechanical precision—emotionless faces twisted into purpose.
Kill.
"Why did I even come to this damn planet?" Noir muttered. "Why did I think I could save anyone?"
The flame was gone. He felt empty. Broken.
One of the clones lunged at him, blade extended—a perfect replica of the real Kyi's original battle posture.
And as it flew, something inside Noir snapped—not from anger, not from desperation. But sorrow. Sorrow so deep it felt like it was clawing up from his soul.
"WHY!?" he shouted, rising with unnatural energy.
He caught the clone's wrist mid-swing.
The clone's blade stopped inches from his neck.
Its face—a mirror of Kyi's—twitched. Then—
The air around them pulsed.
The clone's body began to crack.
Noir's eyes widened.
"What…?"
Like glass under pressure, the clone began to fracture—first the wrist, then the arm, then its entire torso. Red static coursed along its veins, and then—
Shatter.
The clone turned to shimmering particles in Noir's grasp and blew away like cosmic dust.
Everyone froze.
Even Kyi, suspended in the air, faltered for a second—her red glow flickering.
Cloud stared. "Noir… what did you do?"
"I don't know…" Noir whispered, breathless. "I just… wanted it to stop."
He looked down at his hands. They were glowing.
Not with fire. But something different.
A subtle, golden burn along his skin, like a silent whisper of light. It wasn't just a flame—it was something deeper. Something older.
Kyi screamed from above—an inhuman screech of fury and panic—and her clones all charged at once.
Noir stood tall, heart pounding.
He reached forward.
"Stop."
And like command over reality itself, the next clone touched his palm and unraveled like mist at dawn. No flame. No weapon.
Just will.
Noir stepped forward again, each movement sending out subtle ripples in the air. As the clones came for him, they each disintegrated on contact, as though his very existence now opposed theirs.
One by one.
Dust.
One by one.
Silence.
Cloud blinked, slowly stepping toward him. "Your flame's not gone, Noir… it's changed."
Noir didn't answer. His breathing was calm now.
He wasn't angry.
He wasn't afraid.
He was focused.
"I don't think I can kill the real Kyi," he finally said, looking up at her with weary eyes. "But these… these fakes? These tools made by traitors? They don't belong here."
He turned to the last two clones. They hesitated.
And still, they too vanished when they reached him.
A strange hush fell across the battlefield.
Smoke still curled from the rubble. Winds still screamed across the broken plains. But in that moment—Noir stood untouched.
Kyi was still there, hovering in the sky, watching him. Her eyes flickered.
Confusion. Terror. Grief.
She muttered something, barely audible.
"Kill… me…"
Noir looked up at her.
And suddenly, he wasn't a broken boy anymore. He was something more.
Something new.
"No," he said softly. "You deserve better."
But deep down, even he didn't know if that was a promise he could keep.
The flame inside him stirred again.
And this time, it wasn't chaos.
It was purpose.
To be continued....